Ian-Robert

Kisses - Cancer Crew Preference

Ian:

“Ian, quit!” you giggle, squirming around on the bed as your boyfriend presses kisses all across your stomach, driving you absolutely insane. It tickles like crazy, and Ian seems to be enjoying himself way too much.

“But you’re so cute when you get like this,” Ian says, smiling up at you softly. You play with his hair absently, smiling back at him. Ian dips his head down, pressing one last kiss to a little spot of skin above your bellybutton, and then he’s crawling up the bed to kiss you properly.

“I love you,” you murmur, talking against Ian’s mouth as he keeps trying to kiss you over and over again.

“I love you too,” Ian says, hugging you closer, and for some reason, you feel like your chest is going to burst.

Joji:

“Babe,” Joji says, shaking you a little. You acknowledge him with nothing more than a discontent noise, fisting your hands in the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. This has been the god of all naps, and you never want it to end.

“Baby, we really need to get going. Ian and Max are gonna come get us soon.”

But Joji’s not making any serious moves towards getting out of bed, so you figure you can bargain with him on this pretty successfully.

You press sloppy kisses to your boyfriend’s chest, reaching to hold his hand. “Fifteen more minutes, I promise.”

Joji sighs softly, but then you press another wet kiss to the jut of his collarbone, and he caves. “Fifteen minutes, but that’s it.

Max:

“I’ll be back in a few weeks,” Max tells you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You duck your head and look away from him, the sounds of bustling people and scores of cars all around you. It’s dark outside, but the drop-off area of the airport is brightly lit, so much so that you’d think it was the middle of the day. It never ceases to amaze you how strange airports are, even on the outside.

“I know, just… I’m gonna miss you.” You look up at Max again, trying to swallow down the knot in your throat.

“Three weeks,” Max presses, squeezing your hand more intently now. You nod, and he kisses the top of your head, drawing you in for a hug. Curling around Max, you blink silent tears onto his coat and try to revel in this, the last embrace you’re going to have with him for quite some time, but all you get out of it is a cold feeling in your gut. It chills your insides, but your chest is still burning. Trying to hold yourself back from crying is hard work, at least that’s what you’re quickly learning.

“I love you,” Max murmurs into your hair, hands rubbing your back. “I’m gonna call you everyday, I promise. Twice a day if I can, even.”

“I love you too,” you sniffle, pulling away so you can wipe your face. Max leans down and kisses you for a long, long moment, gentle and almost sort of sad.

“Don’t cry, love,” he says, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of his own coat now. “Just go home and try to get some sleep, yeah? It’s late.”

And it is. Flights to American can never leave the Perth airport at a less ungodly hour, or that’s what it seems like to you.

The two part with one final, hard kiss, one that makes your stomach turn and your heart nearly stop dead in your chest. You drive home by yourself with a heavy heart, eyes bleary and lips burning.

Chad:

“Honestly, I can’t believe they haven’t killed you yet,” you say to Chad, working intently on bandaging what’s only the latest in a series of injuries he’s received this week. Monday it was a burn on his leg from a filming light, Tuesday it was a knot on his head from falling on the floor, yesterday it was a rash from spray paint that wasn’t safe for contact with delicate human skin… and today, he got a cut on his arm that nearly made your drive him to the hospital for stitches.

“It’s all in good fun,” Chad says, waving away the matter with a gesture and one of his easy-going smiles. You shoot him a look, knowing that he’d say something like that. He always loves it when Ian and George blow into town for filming, even if it means that he ends up looking like Frankenstein by the time it’s all over.

“One day, you’re really gonna get fucked up, and I’m gonna say ‘I told you so.’” You finish wrapping his arm, taping the bandage down as an extra precaution, and start closing up the first aid kit. “I worry about you sometimes. You always volunteer to do the stupidest shit.”

“Aw, babe, come on,” Chad says, smiling and trying to pull you into his arms. You let him, still pouting even though it feel good. “I’m tough,” Chad tells you, smiling softly as he brushes your hair off your face. “I can take whatever those guys throw at me, and besides- doing stupid shit is my passion.”

You roll your eyes, and Chad kisses your forehead.

“But I do have one request,” Chad says, and you look at him evenly.

“What?”

“Kiss it better?” he asks, holding up his bandaged arm. You roll your eyes again, but this time you’re smiling.

“Sure, Chad,” you say, pressing a soft kiss just beside the end of the wrapping. Chad grins, declaring himself healed, and you can’t help but shove him a little before giving him a proper kiss.

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
You claim to love her, inside and out, but the only time you call her beautiful is when it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already turned you down.
—  girls tell each other everything, c.j.n.